


If you let my soul out

by Kanae



Series: prompt oneshots [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Post-Series, Slow Burn, kind of, prompt: things you said when we were on top of the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanae/pseuds/Kanae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When they ask you if you’ve got anyone you like, forget about saying water, you hear me? Wouldn’t want them locking you up right after your first medal.”</p>
<p>Haru rolls his eyes at the predictable jab, but he can’t find it in himself to feel affronted. At the contrary, he feels rather feather-light; an all too familiar thrill building up inside him and making the edges of his lips curl up with amusement and something else entirely.</p>
<p>And maybe that’s why he says it.</p>
<p>“Then, I’ll say Rin.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you let my soul out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for oikawasstooru at Tumblr, who requested the prompt: things you said when we were on top of the world. I... couldn't come up with a good title, so have a nice song instead? :D
> 
> (I hope you enjoy the read!)

_You come through like a light_  
_In the dark, give me sight_  
_If you let my soul out_  
_It will come right back to you_  
\- **Nitesky** , Robot Koch

 

They get ready in silence. Haru focuses on gathering his belongings, on zipping up his jacket; all the while aware of the little noises Rin makes as he goes around the room, the rustling of the bed they have been sharing as he sits down to tie his shoelaces.

Haru’s body feels taut with unreleased tension and he is sure Rin is feeling the same. He tries to think of something to make them both feel more at ease, but comes up empty handed; being a mood-maker has never been his job. He wishes Nagisa were around, rather than waiting behind a TV set an ocean away.

The thought alone is enough to make his stomach tighten. Lucky for him, Rin chooses that very moment to blurt out, “Say, have you thought about what you’ll say during the post-race interviews?”

“What?”

Rin turns his head back to look at him, shows him the beginnings of a frisky grin that is soon stretching wide. “The interviews. When we win, everyone’ll be  _all_  over us.”

_When_  they win. Haru snorts a little, feels something else fight the tension for dominance;  _adrenaline_. “I’ll just let you do the talking.”

“No way, you’ll have to fetch for yourself this time! And just to be sure,” Rin bends to pick up his bag, but Haru can still hear traces of that grin loud and clear in every word he says, “When they ask you if you’ve got anyone you like, forget about saying water, you hear me? Wouldn’t want them locking you up right after your first medal.”

Haru rolls his eyes at the predictable jab, but he can’t find it in himself to feel affronted. At the contrary, he feels rather feather-light; an all too familiar thrill building up inside him and making the edges of his lips curl up with amusement and something else entirely.

And maybe that’s why he says it.

“Then, I’ll say Rin.”

Or  _maybe_ , maybe it’s because it’s the truth. Haru doesn’t really know how he wanted it to come across, not anymore. All he knows is the way Rin freezes; how he doesn’t ignore it, doesn’t even  _try_   to laugh it off,  _just_ —stays right as he is, so,  _so_  very still. And that something inside Haru stills right with him.

Because Haru doesn’t know which reaction would’ve been worse, and suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air for the two of them in the room.

His name has just made it to the tip of Haru’s tongue when Rin lets out a humorless sound; a poor attempt at a chuckle that is betrayed by the stiffness of his back as he straightens and says, “That would be weird.”

Haru frowns. “And why is that?”

“You  _seriously_  need me to spell it out for you?”

When Haru doesn’t reply, Rin turns a wary gaze on him, cheeks red. Haru doesn’t yield, arches an eyebrow that silently prompts  _well_? And something in Rin’s eyes seems to quiver and give way in the face of Haru’s obstinacy, makes him duck his head until all Haru can see is the way his jaw sets.

“…We’re both guys, Haru,” Rin offers, but there is no bite to his words; only exhaustion.

Haru has half-a-mind to realize he probably should let the matter die. But he can’t bring himself to; he  _needs_  to know. “Does that matter?”

“Huh?”

“I said,” Haru repeats, and licks his dry lips with his even drier tongue, “Does that matter?”

Rin doesn’t hold his eyes for long, gives a flimsy one-shouldered shrug. “It  _should_ , I guess.”

_That’s not what I asked._

“Does it?”

His question is met with silence, and Haru feels like time has flashed past them and he is already standing at the starting block, waiting for the signal to dive in.

And there is no backing out anymore, no taking it back. So Haru steadies himself, flexes his hands and says, “ _Rin_.”

When he finally speaks, Rin’s voice is so small Haru nearly misses it.  _Would_  have missed it, weren’t he waiting for it with baited breath.

“…No.”

It’s such a small word.  _Such_  a brief, helpless sound, but it still drowns everything around it; makes every word Haru has ever heard before pale in comparison. The relief is so overwhelming that it takes over Haru and pushes him forward like a wave; makes him step toward the bed and part his lips, voice catching in his throat and desperate to  _say_ —

_Good, because I don’t think it—no, I_ know _it doesn’t matter to me. I like Rin. I wouldn’t be able to not like you even if I wanted to._

— _something_ , anything,  _everything_  that built up for years and  _years_  until Haru could feel it threatening to spill over his tongue, his fingertips, his very being whether Rin was near or away.

But he hasn’t gotten more than one word out when there is a knock at the door.

“Nanase, Matsuoka! You guys ready yet? Coach wants us down in five!”

For a long, charged moment, all Rin and Haru can seem to do is stare at each other. Haru still with lips half parted, Rin with a look torn between hopeful and frightened.

“We’ll meet you at the lobby!” Rin calls out, never once taking his eyes off Haru. “We’ll talk about this later, alright? This isn’t the time for…” he trails off, swallows; let’s the unsaid hang between them like a loose string.

A part of Haru wants to argue with that; wants to tell Rin there isn’t time for  _anything_ else but this. Then he realizes how childish that sounds and begrudgingly agrees; clamps his mouth shut and bends to pick up his bag. All the while hyperaware of Rin’s presence on the other side of the room; of the rustling of his pants as he gets up from the bed, of the stiffness of his body as he walks past Haru to open the door.

Haru’s body feels taut with unreleased tension—but it’s a different kind of tension now, an all too different brand of anticipation. And he is sure Rin is feeling it, too.

This time, neither of them breaks the silence.

* * *

 

When Haru touches the wall and breaks through the surface, the world around him seems to be at a stand-still. There is no noise but the rush of water on his ears, no sensation aside from water’s cool embrace.

And then it comes back all at once.

An uproar shakes the audience, cuts through Haru like thunderbolt—makes him realize just how erratically his heart is beating, the burning of his lungs as they gasp for  _breath_ —

And yet it isn’t the scoreboard he seeks, but the source of the voice calling out his name.

He finds Rin kneeling by the starting block, body shaking with sobs but lips stretched  _so_ wide and eyes  _so_  alight that water itself seems to catch fire. And he  _knows_  it, then, beyond a shadow of a doubt—knows that they have made it. They have fulfilled Rin’s dream, his dream— _their_  dreams.

And he wants to do nothing more than to keep doing this forever, together.

Together with the boy who wormed his way into his life and changed his world; with the teen that opened his eyes and widened his horizons and gave him something to aim for. Together with the man who is shaking too much to hoist him up but reaches for him instead, wraps his hands around Haru’s and holds on like a lifeline.

And there is  _so_  much Haru can tell him, then— _so_  many things crowding at his throat, but he can’t find his voice.

So he just squeezes back; hoists himself up until the crown of his head rests against Rin’s forehead and Rin’s laughter reverberates through him like a national hymn.

* * *

 

That night, when the entire world has narrowed down to the bed they are sharing and the medals sitting on the nightstand, Haru finally find his voice.

He finds it budding in the wholeness, the happiness, the gratitude, the adoration. In that warm feeling he always gets whenever Rin smiles or cries or frowns. Whenever Rin so much as  _looks_  at him.

Whenever Rin makes him feel  _alive_.

“ _Rin_ ,”

It comes out more as a gasp than a word and Rin stops babbling at once, looks at him with a cross between amusement and curiosity. It makes Haru smile; his eyes burn, his fingers itch.

“Thank you.”

Rin blinks, grins through the confusion. “Huh? What are you saying now?”

Haru’s sight is blurry but he doesn’t quite care; makes no effort to rope back the smile that is stretching his lips wide, wants to do nothing more than to lay himself bare before Rin’s very eyes. Because Haru wants Rin to see it,  _needs_  Rin to know it—his heart and all the things Haru has been keeping inside all this time, all the feelings he has been trying not to show.

“If it weren’t for you—if you hadn’t wanted to swim with me back in grade school—if you hadn’t come back—if you hadn’t asked me to swim for you and taken me to Australia, I wouldn’t be here now,” the words come out in a rush but Haru can’t bring himself to slow down, has no strength left to try and quell the dam now that he has finally opened it. “I… would’ve never known how big the world is, how fun it is to compete and swim with others, I  _wouldn’t_ —I wouldn’t be… this  _happy_ ,” and it’s the truth. A truth so powerful and undeniable that Haru’s voice breaks under it; but he needs to get it out, needs Rin to  _understand_ —

“ _Thank you_ , Rin.”

His gratitude and  _so_  many more things—but Rin beats him to it, voice choked up and face scrunched up.

“ _Idiot_ …! That should be my line. If I hadn’t met you… if you hadn’t saved me, I’d have never had a dream of my own. You  _expanded_  my world!” He shuts his eyes close but it’s no use; the tears hang to his eyelashes and Haru can only stare, like in a trance. “Thank  _you_ , Haru…! If it weren’t for you,  _I_ …!”

And  _Haru_ —Haru feels like he has just dived in all over again; like he is thrusting forward, being  _pulled_  forward, surging through the water to the end-line. So he gives into his fingers, lets them reach out.

Rin’s breath hitches when they come to wipe away his unshed tears, brush the tender skin around the corners of his eyes. “Haru…?”

Haru says nothing. He just traces the contours of Rin’s face, watches with no small amount of fascination as the surprise in Rin’s eyes gives way to something painfully familiar yet unknown—until Rin lets them close and leans into Haru’s touch.

Haru’s chest swells up with so much love, it feels like it’s about to burst.

“Haru… you shouldn’t do this…”

“Why…?” a voice whispers, and Haru can barely recognize it as his own.

“Because  _if you_ …” Rin grows helpless. From this close, Haru can see the way Rin’s Adam’s apple bobs down as he swallows thickly. It makes Haru’s mind feel hazy, his toes curl. “I may get the wrong idea, and then I will ruin it.”

Haru isn’t sure he understands. “Ruin what?”

Rin opens his eyes and they say it all even before his voice does. “Everything. This.  _Us_.”  

He looks so small and scared that it both hurts and empowers Haru. “That’s good.”

“Huh?”

Rin’s lips tremble under Haru’s thumb, but Haru’s are steady as he smiles and admits, once and for all, “…I’ve been waiting for you to ruin us for a while, now.”

Rin’s eyes widen, “ _Wha_ —?”

But Haru knows now that what Rin needs isn’t to hear, but to be shown. So he pushes himself up, leans in and presses their lips together like he has been wanting to do for the last year—or maybe since even before that.

Maybe since the day Rin laid his heart out to him and Haru thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.

When he breaks the kiss, Rin whispers his name once,  _twice_ —and then he is kissing him with such fervency that it knocks whatever breath Haru has left right out of his lungs.

But that’s fine with him. Because it’s Rin  _kissing_  him, tangling his fingers in his hair, rolling on top of him, and  _Haru_ —

Haru soon realizes that sometimes, drowning can feel a lot like soaring.


End file.
